


Falling from Heaven, Climbing from Hell

by thatwinchestergirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Dean, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Demon Dean Winchester, Demon Sam Winchester, M/M, Omega Castiel, Wing Kink, Wingfic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2016-07-18
Packaged: 2018-07-24 18:24:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7518551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatwinchestergirl/pseuds/thatwinchestergirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At a young age Castiel was sold into a prostitution ring for alphas' seeking omegas'. Scared and alone, he's suffered years of abuse, until one day Dean Winchester decideds to buy him on impulse. The shell Castiel has locked himself into is so deep that Dean is the only one who has wanted to try and bring him out again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling from Heaven, Climbing from Hell

Ch.1

The angel lay dead to the world on the piss covered floor of his cell, covered with a film of blood and grime. Castiel's face was impossibly pale with red, blistering burn marks that coated down his neck and chest. An agonizing cry came from the angel as he shifted his left wing. The flight wings were burned off and the bone near his back was completely broken. 

Muted voices called the attention of his ears. He managed to open one eye, the one not swollen shut, to watch the scene unfold. Castiel's good eye blurred and he couldn't see well, his eye stung after having opened it for more than a few seconds. He shut his eye softly, letting the impending darkness surround him once more. 

Suddenly two hands grabbed at the base of the angel's wings, hauling the limp body to his feet. The angel wailed, his scream threatening to burst the windows on the second floor, and the entire building shook. He was in so much pain and the harsh treatment of his captors did nothing to subdue. 

A low growl emitted from an unknown person, his scent unfamiliar to the angel. He was pushed from the captor's arms and into the other person's arm. The scent was comforting, throwing him into a nebulous state. He passed out in moments. 

Bright light shined down upon Castiel's sleeping figure, bringing consciousness to settle. The pain he had never gone a day without was soothed, gone almost. He sat up slowly, huge blue eyes wide and open. Castiel was no longer at the prison, he had come to call home, he wasn't chained to the bed he occupied or left to die on the floor. The poor angel was frightfully confused. 

A soft, gentle touching drew his eyes to his leg. A red tail with a spike the size of a thumb and the width of fifty cent piece lay curled around his leg, gently flicking against his cotton pants. Castiel followed the tail up to a man who sat in the chair beside his bed The other man appeared to be asleep. He was a demon. 

He was adorned with dark, almost black wings, with hues of red streaked through the flight feathers to match his long tail. His wings were barbed, like most demons, and the feathers were pointed and sharp. Castiel thought the demon very handsome with his strong features. He must have been a real beauty in the world of demons, how could he not with such powerful and strong wings. He was clearly a proud Alpha.

Castiel's eyes flickered around the room, quickly assessing his surroundings. On either side of the room were two very large windows and the room itself was covered with dark wall paper. The walls were adorned with red silks that draped over the windows as well and under each window was a couch covered in velvet. 

The Alpha stirred and Castiel froze. His eyes met those of the alpha's, deep forest green ones, as he opened his eyes sleepily. Castiel dropped his gaze almost immediately, lowering his head in shame for being caught looking at his master.

"My name is Dean," said the alpha. "You're Castiel?" 

The angel did nothing but nod feverishly. Out of habit his fingers wound themselves tightly into the sheets. These were soft unlike the rough canvas covers he was used to. 

"I'm gonna call you Cas, that aright? Castiel's kinda a mouthful."

Again he nodded, eyes squeezed shut, wondering when punishment would come. When nothing but silence followed, he timidly opened his eyes. The alpha, Dean, peered at him with wanting interest. 

"I bought you from The Pit, and I'd like to keep you," said Dean with a soft and hushed tone. "I'm not going to hurt you and- and I wouldn't have bought you at all, but my brother, Sam, insisted."

Dean brought his hand gently up from it's place on his lamp and gingerly smoothed his thumb across Castiel's cheek. Subconsciously, he flinched back in fear. Castiel realized his mistake. Dean was one who played gentle and fucked rough, that was better than one who was rough at all ends. He quickly tried to avert the situation from turning violent by throwing himself into the alpha's lap and nuzzling the man's neck. Castiel was shaking.

The impact of the young angel clearly shocked the alpha, he froze before hesitantly and awkwardly placing a hand of what Castiel deemed was supposed to be comfort. The heat between them was enough to send out Dean's pheromones. It was strong and musky, enough to get Castiel's interest. He smelled better than anyone else he had met, with the exception of perhaps Balthazar. But Balthazar was more of someone Castiel could trust, not his master.

His cock began to harden as Castiel began to lick the alpha's neck. Dean growled grabbing his hips and yanking him off. Castiel smiled gently, he knew how to be a good angel like this. Just as suddenly Dean was there, he was not. Castiel was on the bed and Dean no where near him. He lowered his eyes afraid that he might do something wrong, or that he already had to done something wrong.

The smell of pheromones cleared the air after a few minutes, yet the trace lingered in Castiel's nose and would for the next few hours. Dean stepped forward then, bring his hands to cradle Castiel's skeleton like face. "I am not going to sleep with you Cas."

The crestfallen expression Castiel wore startled himself and the alpha. He had never been upset when he was turned down before, not that that happened often. The corners of his mouth tuned upward as if he was going to speak, before closing promptly. "Speak Cas," commanded Dean. "I mean- if you want to. You don't have to." Castiel was almost sure that was a lie.

He opened his mouth once more, willing words to form. His voice was sore from years of misuse and it was almost painful to speak. "I- you. W-what's wrong with me? You d-don't wanna fuck me..." He sounded pitiful and frightened and most of all small, like a small child. "Am I- am I not nice enough loo-looking?' Dean's mouth fell open in what Castiel could only deem to be disgust. "I know I'm- I know I'm too old a-and I'm co-covered in bruises, but I can be real quiet and you wouldn't- woul-wouldn't even have to look a-at me."

Dean's hands tightened on his face. "Cas, no. That's not it. You're beautiful. You're wings are so...so delicious and you scent is intoxicating. The bruises don't bother me and you're definitely not too old, you're almost too young." He brushed his thumb against Castiel's cheek again, being less gentle and touching the new found stitches. "Trust me, if circumstances were different, I'd fuck you into the mattress."

Castiel gulped. His body responded attentively to Dean's touches, betraying Castiel. Dean smiled gently, but it wasn't a genuine smile, it couldn't be. 

"Are you hungry?" asked Dean. Castiel frowned, confusion settling in. In a matter of seconds, he concluded that oral wasn't part of the alpha's "no sex" policy. Clearly come was a decent for a whore angel like Castiel. Dean must have realized this as he looked suddenly startled. "No, no. I meant food. Uh, a tuna sandwich?"

His master lived in a large house. Upon exiting the room he was occupying, he was met with a large corridor of doors. And to the left was a grand staircase. The kitchen was through a smaller hallway underneath the stairs. "Used to be slaves quarters," said Dean, offering an explanation. 

Castiel dove in, almost widely, to the sandwich. He savored each bite, moaning each time a burst of mustard hit his tongue. If he was punished, so be it, the sandwich was the first decent meal he'd had in months. Dean grinned at him as he finished and caught a drop of mayo on Castiel's cheek. He popped his finger into his mouth sucking off the condiment. Green eyes went wide with alarm as he realized what he' done.

"Sorry," murmured Dean.

"S'fine," replied Castiel in almost the same, if not quieter, tone. "Th-thanks."

Dean swallowed the last of his tuna, Castiel almost moved to fast for himself. The angel was already running water against the plates. He could feel Dean's stare boring into his back, following the movement of his wings as Castiel breathed. His wings were brought closer to his body out of habit and reflex. Angels tended to be very self-conscious of their wings, especially if it was an alpha that was looking. 

"You're wings...are they always this frayed? 

Castiel shook his head, before stopping himself and speaking, "No, they n-need to be g-groomed and o-oiled."

Dean smiled softly, perhaps it was a grimace, but Castiel was not sure. His master was surely laughing at his misfortune of a stutter and rasp of a voice, especially considering he was speaking almost freely now. 

"Would, um, you want me to help you? Or I can find another angel."

Castiel peered up at Dean through dark bangs of floppy hair that fell into his face. "You can," shrugged Castiel. 

"Only if you want. I know angels are sensitve about who touches their wings."

"Not me," said Castiel. Not anymore anyway. "I-I'm just a sl-slave."

Dean looked as if he were hesitating to say something, but said nothing. He moved to stand at Castiel's side, hand raised to push him aside and in less than a second, Castiel dropped to the floor leaning his forehead against Dean's knees. His breathing was shallow and he could smell Dean, who smelt of leather and car oil. Maybe even something sweet which Castiel couldn't pinpoint. Dean stiffened beneath the angel's weight, shifting in what could only be irritation. 

"Please, please, please...." begged Castiel for something he didn't understand. It was the only coherent word he could form. 

A hand wound it's way into the angel's dark waves of hair, stroking fingers massaged his scalp and stroked through the strands as a form of comfort. Castiel didn't even realized that the soft hushes were escaping from Dean's lips. The alpha bent to the angel's level, pressing small touches to the visible skin of Castiel's neck and face.

His heartbeat thundered, too loudly, in his ears as he relaxed into Dean's grip. "I'm not gonna hurt you Cas," said Dean. "No one's ever gonna hurt you again."

"Slave!" sobbed Castiel loudly as if Dean couldn't understand. He was a slave, he didn't matter. He was expendable. 

Dean pressed his face tightly against Castiel's throat, humming and pressing doting warm, open mouthed kisses against his neck. "Mine," whispered Dean. "Not a slave, mine."

Castiel's sobs quieted after a few minutes and he was almost calm. But panic followed quickly afterwards. His brain was wired to function under commands, those commands weren't given- the wires shocked him. He didn't want to be punished, Castiel was good. He tried so hard, so hard to be good. 

Silence followed and Dean just held him, face pressed to Castiel's neck, with icy breath nipping at the warm spots from his tongue. "You s-said no fu-fucking."

Dean's words were muffled by Castiel's skin. "Not gonna," He licked a stripe up his neck. "Just kissing."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Dean pulled back with eyes filled to the edge, completely black. He watched Castiel for a moment, head cocked. "You don't believe me."

Castiel dropped his head. Demon eyes didn't phase him, not anymore, and he wasn't scared of that but more so of being tortured. Demons were not kind and Dean was kind. Of course Castiel did not believe him. He peeked up at his master who was frowning, eyes still black as night. 

Gingerly, Castiel nuzzled his face into Dean's right thigh. The roughness of his jeans provided a source of textured comfort as he ran his cheek around the denim. "I'll be goo-good. Please."

His master hummed softly, brushing away Castiel's dark hair that had melted to his face with sweat. A sharp ring sent Castiel flying, huddled in the corner far away from Dean. Rather than becoming angry, he only smiled and pulled out a cellphone from his packet. The last time Castiel had seen a sell phone was quite a long time ago, his previous masters had never been much for modern technology. 

"Hiya, Sammy," Dean greeted, grinning into the phone. "What's goin' on?"

There was quiet murmuring on the receiving end of the line. Dean's grin slowly faded and his eyes flashed a shade of black again, tail jerking with the tip slamming against the wood. With a slow and shaky motion, Castiel crawled towards Dean and returned to his former position. He smiled softly yet grimly and Dean's hand returned to his hair.

"I understand, Sammy," he sighed. "We'll figure something out."

Dean clicked the phone shut, shoving back into his packet. It was silent for a moment, before Castiel spoke, timid and quietly. "Wh-who was that?"

His master smiled thoughtfully. "He's my baby brother. You got any siblings?"

Castiel's wings twitched before he shrugged, tempted to roll his eyes. Like Castiel would know if he hand any siblings, slaves were separated at birth from mother. Dean seemed to accept that answer as he stood, shifting Castiel up by his shoulders. He groaned softly, shoulders still marred with bruises. 

"Let's go to bed, alright?"


End file.
